


if I've got you I don't need a parachute

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:42:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29520354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: And wasn't this a quiet wonder equal to all the forests she'd seen since leaving Jakku?(Archive 2016)
Relationships: Finn/Rey (Star Wars)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 24
Collections: Anonymous Fics





	if I've got you I don't need a parachute

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glamafonic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glamafonic/gifts).



> I was inspired to write this because glamafonic gets terrible trolls in her inbox. This was not beta'd and edited minimally, and it was written in the wee hours of the morning with little sleep, so I beg forgiveness for any errors!

Rey woke up curled in the warm curve of Finn's body, and she had to struggle for a familiar tired second against the startled jump of her pulse. When they slept in the same bed they usually began the night a safe distance - both of them were so used to slumbering alone limbs tangled and body heat itched. But when they woke they were inevitably tucked together, knee to knee or back to chest, slumber giving them enough ease to reach out.

Not that, awake, it was so hard. They both fumbled sometimes - held a hand too tight or tripped over their words - but Finn's easy, wondering smile and the exhilarated tightness of Rey's chest helped them through each pitfall. And the moments when her body went stiff as she woke and didn't remember where she was were growing shorter.

They still always woke him, though. His eyes fluttered, and then peered drowsily at her. He didn't need to ask the question anymore, but he laid one hand gently against her side, callused fingers curving over her ribcage. Under the light sleep shirt she wore, her skin warmed to his touch, and she warmed to his sleepy smile.

Rey laid back down again, from where she had risen to one elbow. Her forehead brushed his and he shifted his cheek on the pillow. "Okay?" he murmured.

"Okay," she agreed.

They had a moment where they both shifted their legs and then had to navigate the shared space, but they ended with her leg tucked around his. He closed his eyes, but she knew he was still awake.

"I had a weird dream," she began, but then frowned. She couldn't remember it.

Finn blinked at her, angling his face up and visibly shaking the last cobwebs of slumber from himself. "Yeah?"

Rey shook her head wordlessly.

"If it's important, it'll probably come back," Finn said. "Right?" He sat in on some of her lessons in the Force - General Organa hadn't made as intensive a study as her brother, occupied with other pursuits, but she was far from ignorant, and her firm and practical suggestions had led Rey in leaps and bounds that outstripped any information the obscurely worded texts the Resistance had found could offer.

It helped to have him there, too. It had helped to have him curiously studying the texts beside her, sometimes cracking jokes and it helped to have him sitting next to BB-8 with a flight manual across his lap, usually nibbling on a piece of fruit. He liked them, he said. They'd usually got vitamin paste and MRE's in training.

And sometimes when he cocked his head to the side and studied what she was doing she almost felt...a tickle, there, a whisper. But then something would distract them, BB-8's bright chirps or a clatter of footsteps and a voice from down the hall. Rey had asked him about it, but the most he'd been able to give was a puzzled shrug. _Well, it's interesting_ , he'd said.

"I guess," Rey said uncertainly. He ran his hand gently down her side, grazing her hip, and found her hand to give it a squeeze.

"Sorry," he said.

Rey got a little closer, curling against him, comforted without words. "I'm okay," she said. "I just wish I was a little better at this..."

He just nodded, watching her with heavy-lidded eyes.

"What time is it?" Rey asked rhetorically, lifting up to peer over his body at the clock. "Mm. A couple hours before I wanted to get up," she said, and collapsed back onto the bed. She rolled over, keeping her grip on his hand when he would have politely released her. Their arms folded comfortably over her stomach. She stared at the metal ceiling. "I won't be able to go back to sleep."

Finn coughed a little, and when she glanced over a sheepish smile was tugging at his lips. "Well," he hedged, "there are, you know, a few things we could do..."

Rey bit down on her lip, feeling her cheeks warm. "For two hours?" she asked, raising her eyebrows as if amazed.

He cleared his throat again, flustered, and she giggled - it brought an answering breathless laugh out of him. They were both still laughing softly under their breath when they kissed.

She cupped his jaw with her hand. And wasn't this a quiet wonder equal to all the forests she'd seen since leaving Jakku? He kissed her softly, feather light, and his arm slid around her with a careful tenderness that made her feel all her skin - all her warm veins and nerves, no longer scoured by sandstorms and the glancing claws of greedy scavengers - ripple with gooseflesh.

"After, um," she mumbled against his lips. "After, maybe we could visit the hangar?"

He pulled back, and she saw interest light up his eyes. "Hey," he said. "That's right - you never finished showing me - and everybody," he said, referring to the circle of interested engineers she inevitably gathered while working, "the new idea you had for thruster recoil - "

"After?" Rey repeated, blushing a little, and he trailed off, blinked, and refocused in a hurry.

"After," he agreed.

She nodded rapidly and drew him a little closer with the leg she had tucked behind his knee. "After," she said again, and he kissed her.

The bed was a little small for this, but they always managed. They were both used to small spaces - to rushing, to loneliness - and he cradled her hip, his first kisses always careful.

Some people she was uneasy about learning to touch. Brushing elbows in the mess or standing crammed in a crowd still raised her hackles sometimes, made her itch for breathing space, made her clutch a hand over the pouch that held her credits, made her fingers stiff for her staff.

Finn wasn't one of them.

She could kiss him, like this, and she knew the sleepy moan she'd bring out of him, her fingers tripping down his back, finding _his_ hip. Like this - tangled, flushed, skin to skin, thumping heart to thumping heart - she felt...she felt _happy._ She felt - safe. She felt a little scared, because she wasn't sure she was allowed to have it.

He settled back a little as if sensing her flash of uncertainty. "You okay?" he asked again, softly.

"I'm - I'm okay," she said. She wrapped her arms awkwardly around him, and he rolled up on one shoulder to help her slide an arm under his neck, settling one warm arm around her, his big hand spreading between her shoulderblades. "I'm okay," she repeated softly, squeezing him probably a little too tight. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in; she felt his exhale tickle her ear and throat. There were other nights when they'd both awkwardly clutched each other a little too tight, but this morning he just held her, and after a while Rey loosened her grip and gave an unsteady little laugh.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she said. He touched her cheek, feather light, and she leaned in to kiss him again.

Kissing Finn was - she focused on this, she let her world winnow down to it, the tenderness of his parting lips and the way his eyes closed as he tilted his face up, she let it sweep away the fog of troubled dreams and old fears - was _golden_.

They were still learning the ins and outs of their bodies, what made each other shudder or stiffen, shake their head or gasp happily, but they'd learned enough for Rey to twine around him like a climbing vine, for him to cup her breast and stroke his thumb slowly in a circle around her nipple. They'd learned enough for Rey to know if she ducked her head and kissed his throat, finding his pulse and the place where collarbone smoothed down beneath his throat, he'd shiver and make a soft sound in his throat.

"Rey," he said, and she tried to drag her arm in through her sleeve so she could peel her nightshirt off.

When he shook off his daze and realized what she was doing, he helped her; they sat up briefly to peel off his shirt and hers. She climbed close again as soon as they were free, kissing his shoulder as his distracted hands massaged her waist. "Maybe we should..." he trailed off, and she pulled away to look around the room.

"Yeah..." she said. They'd be whacking their head and their elbows trying to roll around. They'd learned this the hard way, but somehow when they started kissing they always forgot that and had to strategize halfway through.

They looked at each other, a little embarrassed by the familiar pattern, and then the embarrassment cracked and they grinned at each other. Rey put a hand over her mouth trying to laugh. "Okay," she said. "Who's on..." She gestured.

He shrugged comfortably, grin still creasing his cheeks and warming his eyes, and Rey nodded to herself and tugged at him. "You," she said quietly. This morning, she wanted him pressing against her, soaking the heat of their shared embrace into her. "Pants first," she amended, and they both scrambled.

He smoothed her hair away from her face as they settled back down, making room for themselves; then he gently urged her up with a hand behind her skull. Puzzled, Rey obeyed, and he tugged the pillow into a better position.

Finding herself with a perfect opportunity, she kissed his throat before she laid back down, and he said her name softly. She put her hand against his shoulder, spreading her callused fingers against dark skin picked very faintly with small scars. She had them too, over the back of her hand and her fingers. Shiny remnants of burn scars, a slice at the base of her thumb that had nearly put it out of commission. It still made her shudder, that memory. The stark chilling fear. She would have died, starved, been lost and never found. No one had use for a crippled scavenger.

He closed his fingers over hers, startling her back into herself. Rey lifted her eyes to his face, then turned her hand awkwardly in his and brought his fingers to her lips. She kissed his hand, wrapped around hers. Kissed both of their scars.

"Sorry," she said quietly. He bumped her forehead with his and she closed her eyes. Reminded herself, or remember - they didn't need to apologize to each other.

She drew her legs up around his hips, framing his body with hers, and felt him settle against her. He was warm and coming fully erect as their bodies aligned. A shivery sigh slipped out of her as his chest pressed to her breasts. Almost, almost as close as they could get.

But for a long second, despite or because of how close they were, they just kissed - their mouths finding each other eagerly, her hands linking behind his neck, one of his bracing him against the bed and the other cradling her shoulder. His thumb moved in gentle circles.

All these new parts of kindness they were discovering. All these gears and bolts that held together the things that powered hope. Sometimes when she kissed him she felt tears prickle behind her eyes because she wanted - she wanted so badly - to keep this, to hold onto him and the base and every answer she was finding to even simple answers like, _how does it feel, how does it feel to eat three solid meals of food with tastes that explode on your tongue, how does it feel to be asked the question 'how was your day' at all, nevermind from someone who props his chin on his hand and smiles while he listens intently to your answer -_

And she wasn't sure, she wasn't she got to. Sometimes she still wondered if she'd wake up from a pleasant dream and have only the lonely stars to hold her.

But Finn came back. And when Rey was really afraid, when she'd dreamed of blood on the snow and a towering figure rank with strange and distant decay, those nights she could reach out and touch Finn and the Force, and between them she held herself together. She looked forward.

"Finn," she whispered, and he nuzzled her cheek in a tender question, but she just wanted to say it, to say - "Finn, Finn, Finn."

He kissed her chin, then her mouth again, and he slid inside of her with a single flex of his hips.

Rey arched up with a small cry, her thighs opening wider. He kissed her open mouth, the kisses turning more hungry, hotter and harder. He drew back, thrust again, came fully inside of her with just one more gentle pulse of their hips' shared rhythm.

And then she was holding him inside her and they paused. Rey tightened her legs around him and abruptly they were sharing another moment when they clutched each other a little too tight, breathed and felt their ribs push against each other's arms. He was so warm, against and inside of her, so real, and the golden flare of sensation in the pit of her belly spread through her like sunrise.

Rey gasped out something, maybe his name again. She loosened her legs around his hips and they started to move.

This small bed, this small room in a line of small rooms on the rebel base, wasn't really the place for a more excited rhythm or noises. Instead they'd found through trial and error this slow sweetness, this languid shared joy. They muffled their gasps and small cries against her loose and sweat-damp hair, against the muscle of his shoulder. And if their odd hiccups of laughter sounded a little throaty, the walls weren't _that_ thin.

One came on her now, a gentle dizzy laugh, and she felt his mouth smile against hers, saw his eyes bright on her face. _Safe,_ she thought, _safe, safe, Finn, Finn_ \- 

And he said, "yeah, I've got you," and she realized somewhere in there she'd begun murmuring it aloud.

"I've got you," she repeated back at him, and his smile softened again. Sometimes he looked at her like this - with something like wonder, and she always wanted to touch him in those moments. _You looked at me like no one ever had_ , he'd told her, and she wanted to say the same, she wanted to say, _no one's ever smiled at me like you do_ , and she couldn't find the breath as he moved against her but it was okay, he knew, he knew.

And then he kissed again, his sweat-slick belly brushing hers, and as his body shuddered he reached down between them. With his thumb he gently circled her clit, and she bit mischievously down on his lip. He came a bare second before her, sliding deep and shuddering, and his eyes were so wide in that moment, his face so vulnerable. His hand's movement stuttered, but began again, and Rey shifted her hips for the right angle. Orgasm rippled through her almost sharply, a starburst of sweetness, and as she drifted down from afterglow he dropped his face over her shoulder. He still had his elbows planted, but they were both watery-muscled. Rey closed her eyes and savoured his weight on her for a long moment, but then had to nudge his shoulder. He rolled to the side, both of them sighing as their bodies came apart.

She rolled to face him, and when his eyes drifted open he looked almost solemn. They looked at each other from inches away in the quiet of the room.

"Okay?" she asked quietly.

He reached up and combed her hair gently back from her face, and it was if something in his gaze - in his body language, one of the most frustrating dialects she'd ever struggled to learn - settled back into place. "Okay," he promised, and she leaned in to him. They pulled the pillow into a place they could share, and she pressed her lips to his chin.

In a moment, they'd rise, wash quickly, dress. They'd head to the hangar, and he'd listen with his head cocked to the side as she talked excitedly about what she'd discovered lately. And Finn listened - really _listened_ , eyes bright and curious, occasionally asking questions when she wasn't tripping over herself to work things out - and it threw her back to lonely nights when she'd talked to an abandoned helmet, or herself, or scars in her wall, just to hear a human voice. The same way it threw him, he'd told her quietly once, back to briskly snapped out regulations and the scornful gaze of squadmates.

In a moment, they'd get up and share another kind of quiet pleasure, another kind of discovery.

Right now, they closed their eyes and breathed together, and she no longer needed his body pressed against her to chase away the cold - they shared the same heartbeat, and their warmth was inseparable.


End file.
